Entwined by Fate
by darlingdaae
Summary: A story following the life of Erik and Christine's daughter. It combines aspects from Leroux's novel and the ALW musical. Not an E/C story.
1. Chapter 1

The birth of a child was supposed to be the most amazing moment in a young woman's life. Most girls of Paris dreamt of having a darling baby to spoil. A little boy that they could raise to be a gentleman, a son that would grow up to be a strong husband and loving father. Or perhaps a little girl that could be adorned in all the dresses of France. A daughter that would become a loving wife and mother. These were the dreams of the rich and yet none of these thoughts passed through the mind of Christine Daae as she hit her fourteenth hour of labour.

As a child, Christine often fantasized about being an adult. In fact, she had planned her life down to every stitch of detail. She wanted to marry her best friend, Raoul de Chagny. They would have 3 children, 2 boys with a girl as the youngest. They would live together in a house just outside Paris, where the air was clean but they could still travel into the city when the urge came over them. She had longed for this life for as long as she had known the boy, yet all her dreams, her meticulously planned life, had been torn away by a decision she made nine months prior.

She vowed herself to a man named Erik to save her beloved Raoul. She would have been content to die underground so Paris could live, but she had promised away her death as well, her cursed vow to be a "living bride" to the living corpse of a man she was forced to call her husband.

All thoughts of the past were promptly stripped away as another contraction tore through her. Her only friend, a man she called The Daroga, gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "You're almost there Christine, you're doing wonderful. You need to give one last push when I say so."

It was a breached birth. Christine had hoped the Daroga could see the face of her child first, either to ease her mind or confirm her fears. But no, she had to remain oblivious until the very end.

"Ok you need to push… now!"

Christine pushed with all her strength to get the child out of her. For a moment she wished Erik was in the room so she could have another hand to hold, but he had been instructed to wait outside. She continued to push until she felt a sudden release of pressure as the baby was born. Christine threw her head back into her pillow to catch her breathe as the most beautiful, melodic cry weakly filled the room.

"My baby," she said, desperately grabbing the air. "Where is my baby?"

The Daroga dutifully wrapped the infant in the fluffy blanket that had been prepared, being careful not to lock eyes with the waiting mother. He passed the swaddled bundle into her arms. His eyes lowered to the ground to avoid Christine's gaze. "I'm terribly sorry".

Outside the room, Erik had been waiting for hours. He had been forced out at the tenth hour of labour and had been standing outside perfectly still. He had listened to each scream his precious Christine had cried. Each scream cut his soul deeper as he knew it was his fault she was experiencing such pain. But eventually the cries of his wife ceased and he heard a new cry: the weak cry of his child. He waited until the Daroga came out of the room. His old acquaintance said nothing and instead simply nodded.

Erik rushed into the room. Christine jumped when he entered. He walked towards her and noticed her flinch, clutching the baby's face close to her chest. "Let me see," he said. Christine positioned the bundle so the baby was supposedly facing its father, but the blankets covered its face. "Let me see," Erik said again. Christine lowered her gaze and brushed the blanket away from the infants face.

Erik gasped. He never knew it was possible for a human to look like the image that was gracing his vision at that moment. The left side of the child's face was the most perfect thing he had ever seen. The cheek was soft and chubby with a darling rosy glow. The left eye was a piercing dark brown, so dark he almost couldn't see the pupil and the baby had a small tuft of jet black hair that graced only the left side of its head. The right side of the child's face was something ripped from a nightmare. The skin was nearly translucent and had a yellow tint to it. It was pulled tightly over an array of twisted muscle and bone. The eye was sunken into the skull so deeply the only indication there was an eye was the unsettling yellow glow that seemed to emerge from the depths of its skull. The lips were curled and twisted in an unimaginable way and the child had inherited its fathers nose, or rather lack thereof. Sure enough, there was a hole in the middle of its face where there should have been a beautiful little nose.

Erik began to cry. "I'm sorry, my Christine," he sobbed. He bent down and buried his masked face into her shoulder. The two of them sat in silence for a moment, the only sounds being their tears. The baby broke the moment by beginning to fuss, demanding for its mother to pay attention to it.

Christine had to look away. The baby's arms had freed themselves from the confines of the blanket and she could see the appearance of the child's right side affected far more than the face. It's left arm was beautifully chubby and soft, much like any other newborn. It's right arm was terribly skinny, the skin pulled tight around the bone with just a thin layer of anything else in between. All the veins and tendons moved together in a horrible symphony under the paper thin skin as it grasped for its mother. Christine cried as she let the near lifeless hand wrap it's fingers around hers. She kept her eyes averted.

Erik saw the way his bride looked at his child. Part of him was disgusted with her. He hated to see his child covered and shamed by its own mother. But the other part of him simply wanted to cry. It was his fault Christine's child looked that way. He put his hand on her shoulder and she tensed at the feeling of his cold, dead flesh. "Is it… uh… a girl or a boy?" he asked, almost afraid to hear.

She looked up at him. "It's a girl," she said as near tears sprang to her eyes. Erik said nothing. They both knew how high the expectations where for a girls beauty, especially in Paris.

"Is she healthy?" Erik asked.

Christine closed her eyes. "I don't know. She only cried once and it was not that strong. I don't know if… I… I don't know."

That night, Christine slept with the child held in her arms. Erik held a vigil over both of them, his yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. The image of Christine's face was burned into his mind. He saw the fear in her eyes at the sight of her child. He saw the way she couldn't bear herself to look at the baby and the way she reacted to the infants touch. He saw the pain Christine was going through to pretend it was all ok.

He remembered when Christine had first revealed her pregnancy. She had reassured him that no matter what, she would love the child and come to love her life, but for all her acting skills that was the one lie Erik saw through. He knew she longed for the world above, she longed for a normal life, yet it was the one thing in his power he could not grant.

He faced a difficult choice, but his love for Christine was too great to let her suffer. He knew the one thing holding her back from her freedom was the sleeping baby girl she now held in her arms. He gently took the baby out from her mother's grasp and swept her away into the next room.

The next morning Christine awoke, frantically searching for her child. "Erik, where is she? Where did she go?"

Erik lowered his head and averted her eyes. "She's gone. I'm sorry Christine."

More tears filled her eyes as she mourned her baby. "How did… what happened?"

"Like you said yesterday, she was very weak. I'm so sorry, my angel." There was silence once more until Erik spoke up. "You may leave."

"Pardon?" she asked, certain she misheard.

"You may leave. Go up to the real world. Find that pitiful suitor of yours and go to him. Let him give you the life you always wished for."

She hesitated. They had just lost a child and now he expected her to leave?

"There is nothing left for you here! Leave!" He roared. She jolted away and ran to gather what few belongings she had. Once she was done she returned, holding his golden ring out to him. He accepted it back.

"Goodbye, Erik."

"I love you Christine."

She said nothing. She simply ran.

Erik sat in silence, listening to her footsteps disappear until she was completely gone. He took a breath then walked into the room he had hidden their daughter. She had grown much stronger throughout the night and cried as her father picked her up.

"No ma cherie, please don't cry," he said, gently trying to rock the infant back to sleep.

Her wailing continued as Erik was struck with an idea. He put her down, placed his mask upon his face, then picked her back up. As he suspected, she settled down immediately.

"That's ok darling. I wouldn't want to see that either," he laughed to himself. "I suppose it is just us now," he said, carefully placing her back in her bassinet. "I'm sorry you'll never know your maman, but she loved you far too much for her own good."

The baby settled down and stared up at Erik, her visible eye wide with wonder. "I suppose you'll need a name." He chuckled as his dead finger brushed the black puff of hair on his daughter's head. "You know, little one, the first time your mother truly met me she was starring in an opera called Hannibal. Oh you should have seen her. She played the character of Elissa and she was the most beautiful woman alive. Far to beautiful for the likes of me. Huh, I rather like that. I'll call you Elissa. What do you think?"

The baby blinked in response to his question. "Very well," he chuckled as he tucked his daughter in.


	2. Chapter 2

La Sorelli had found a rather disturbing note in her dressing room one night. Despite her many shortcomings she was a smart girl who knew not to overlook the importance of a letter, especially in the Opera Garnier.

The note had read as follows.

_"Dear Sorelli,_

_You did a wonderful job these past few months hiding your secret, but unfortunately no secret can remain safe within the walls of this Opera House. I am well aware of the child you recently gave birth to as a result of an affair. I assume you wish to keep this as quiet as possible, otherwise you would not have forced the brat off to some poor relative, correct? If you do not wish for this information to make its way on to every newspaper in Paris you will follow my instructions exactly as I say with no questions asked._

_Every day for the next 8 months you will provide your milk in a bottle that I shall provide for you. You will leave the bottle in your dressing room on your desk every 2 hours, starting from 8:00 in the morning and ending at 10:00 at night. Every time you make such a delivery you are to leave the room immediately after. You will be notified of any change in this plan later on._

_If you tell anyone what you are doing, I shall expose you. If you inform anyone you received this letter or any further instructions, I shall expose you. If you try to question me and find my motives, I shall expose you. If you try and find me, I shall expose you. If I have underestimated your intentions and you do not fear your secret's exposure, I assure you I can do much worse than spread a little gossip. I trust you're a smart girl._

_I promise to pay you a handsome sum of money for your troubles and silence. Until then I remain your obedient servant,_

_-O.G"_

Sorelli had nearly fainted. She knew the rumours better than most of the dancers. She had heard of some terrible phantom hiding in the walls, knowing things that were impossible to know. Part of her thought the note was a prank pulled by one of the dancers and yet… well, they simply knew too much.

Sorelli had indeed had an affair. A lover that had stopped by her dressing room after many of her shows. It would have been a scandal had anyone found out, especially when she learned she was with child. To make matters worse, her lover had died just before she learned of the baby. She was young and scared and simply couldn't do it. She had taken a "vacation" from the opera, saying she had to tend to some old aunt for a few months. She stayed in hiding for the final months of her pregnancy, and 1 week ago she had given birth before promptly giving the baby away to a relative who had been more than happy to raise the child.

All of that had been kept a secret from the public eye. No one but herself and the child's new ward knew about this exchange, or so she had thought. She glanced to her desk and found an array of baby bottles ready for her, just as the note had said. She didn't know exactly why a ghost would be in need of such a thing, but the note said no questions.

Behind her mirror, Erik waited as she took a bottle and took to a more secluded corner of her room. He was so relieved that had worked, but he was not surprised. He had more power over the Opera Garnier than anyone realized. This persuasion had been more than easy to pull off. All it took was a little bit of local gossip courtesy of the Daroga and he had found a suitable wet nurse for his baby.

La Sorelli checked the grandfather clock to see it was nearly 8:00. She left the full bottle on her desk, changed into her dance clothes, then went to go practice with the others.

Back at his house on the lake, Erik had started feeding Elissa. She seemed to be fussy, constantly pushing the bottle away and crying for her mom. Erik had considered telling Sorelli to nurse the child directly, believing a woman's touch would calm the fussy baby, but that would not have been possible given Elissa's appearance. Not to mention that would have been far too weird to ask, even for him.

Eventually Erik got his daughter to drink her milk and she immediately settled down. He felt rather proud of himself, he was nothing if not innovative. Once she was done he placed her gently in the bassinet that he had fashioned just for her.

She stared up at him with her big eyes, the yellow one glowing ominously from the socket. He didn't know what to do. He had heard that babies need lots of playtime and talking time with their parents, but Elissa was just 2 days old. Surely she wasn't supposed to be talking and playing at this age, right?

Erik ran over the vast array of talents he possessed, hoping to find something to entertain the child. He soon realized many of his hobbies were less than child friendly and he would have to make some serious changes to himself. The changes Christine had hoped he would make…

He snapped out of his thought. Christine was in the past, he now had to focus on Elissa. He decided music was a nice activity an infant could enjoy. The organ was a touch too loud for such a young audience member so he opted for his violin. He stood by the bassinet as his first notes rung out from his fingers. He played an old lullaby he had once heard for his daughter, pouring his soul into every note. When he saw she was still awake, he decided to sing the lyrics he remembered.

She had fallen asleep as soon as his singing began and Erik stopped his performance. He considered composing something but found he was hypnotized watching his baby sleep. Perhaps being a father would be easier than he thought.


	3. Chapter 3

Erik had once heard that the greatest challenge of rearing a child was teaching them to walk and talk. Erik found his greatest challenge was getting Elissa to sit down and stay quiet. Ever since she learned her legs could be used for movement, Erik had to keep an eye on the restless child at all times. If she decided she wanted more attention, she resorted to screaming at the top of her lungs like some sort of tiny banshee.

When she would decide she was tired she would collapse onto the couch and ask for a story. Erik had a wide variety of books down in his house, and thanks to the Daroga many picture books had been acquired since Elissa's birth, but he often opted to tell her stories of Christine.

He had many sketches and paintings of his beloved Christine that Elissa would constantly fawn over as he over-romanticized details of their relationship for his child's entertainment. "She's so beautiful Papa!" she exclaimed as she examined each detail of her mother's face.

One day when she decided it was story time Elissa asked, "Papa, why did maman leave me?"

Erik knew the question was coming but it broke his heart to hear his sweet little girl ask the question herself. "Your mother… well… she loved you very much, but she had to leave. She simply couldn't stay here anymore and she couldn't bring you with her."

She didn't understand, at least not completely. Deep in her little mind she was trying to comprehend the reasons someone would have to leave their child, yet she kept drawing a blank. It wasn't until a few months later that she came to her final conclusion about the fate of her mother.

She had finally been allowed to go to the lake underground. Erik had kept her away in fear of the restless child falling in, but after months of pleading on her part he figured she would be fine as long as he kept her near himself at all time.

She stepped out the door and practically dragged her father by the hand over to the water's edge. She eagerly looked into the perfectly still lake before releasing an ear piercing scream and burying her face in her father's chest. "Papa don't go near there! There is a monster in the lake!" she screamed, trying to heroically push Erik back into their house.

He pick the little girl up before looking into the water himself. Nothing but his masked reflection looked back at him. "Oh, I see," he said as realization struck him. He gently placed his daughter on the ground and showed her the water. She tensed up as she approached the lake and tried to hide behind her dad.

"No Papa! No, you need to stay away! It will get you!"

"Calm yourself Elissa," he said. "I promise I won't let anything hurt you. Now come look in the water."

She inched closer and peered down. Her reflection looked up at her. "There it is Papa! You must get away from the monster! Hurry!"

"No darling, that is not a monster. That is called a reflection."

She looked up at him, her eyes full of curiosity. "What is a reflection?"

"A reflection is when something like water or a mirror shows what is in front of it. You have seen mirrors in your picture books, correct?"

"Yes Papa"

"Well the water acts like a mirror. It shows us what it sees and that image is called a reflection. Do you understand?"

Elissa nodded. "Yes Papa. But if that is true then I believe this water is broken."

Erik paused for a second to try and comprehend the sentence that just emerged from his daughters mouth. "The water… is broken?" he asked, stifling a laugh.

"Yes, because I am above of the water but it is not seeing me. It is seeing a monster."

Erik took another moment, this time out of sadness rather than confusion. "Elissa, the thing you are calling a monster… that is your reflection."

"What?" she asked, stumbling backwards. "Is that… is that what I look like?" Her eyes had started flooding with tears as she bravely faced the lake again.

"Yes ma cherie, that is what you look like. But you are not a monster. You are a beautiful little girl."

She had grown unsettlingly quiet. "Why?" Is all she said.

"I'm afraid you got that from me," Erik said. "That is why I wear this mask. I do not like my reflection, but that doesn't mean you should not like yours."

"That is a mask?" she asked, her tiny fingers running along to cool porcelain. "I thought that was your face."

Erik let out a soft chuckle. "I'm sad to say it is not my face. I will show you if you like."

Elissa nodded vigorously, almost forgetting about her reflection waiting in the lake.

Erik slowly removed his mask and looked up to lock eyes with Elissa. She jumped back and Erik tried to give the best reassuring smile his malformed lips would allow. He waited for a reaction; a scream, a faint, anything, but she stayed silent. She peered back to the water, then looked back at her dad.

She remained quiet for a few minutes. She was going back and forth between the lake and Erik, examining both their faces, running her fingers over her father's face and her own. Finally she decided to break the silence. "Is this why I've never felt my nose?"

"Um… yes I suppose it is," Erik said.

"Interesting," was all she said. All her brain power was going into trying to decipher what this meant. "Papa, I have another question."

"Ask away, cherie."

"Is this why maman left us?"

Erik was truly stunned. "No, of course not," he finally said. "Your mother loved you very much. But she had to leave us here."

Elissa looked at her father with tears streaming down her cheeks. She said, in a voice just above a whisper, "did she die?"

He let the question stir in his mind for a second, contemplating whether it was best to tell her the truth. After a few moments he said, "yes, she died."

Elissa nodded and returned her gaze to the water, leaving the air around them unnervingly quiet. "Are you ok?" Erik asked after a few more minutes had passed.

"Yes," she said, still staring at the lake. "I just wish I could have met her."

"She loved you so much, cherie, and she would love you even more if she knew how wonderful you've grown up to be," he said as he joined her by the lake. "You remind me of her."

"How?"

Erik gestured to her reflection, pointing at each of Elissa's features as he called them out. "Well, you both have the same curly hair, but hers was gold while yours is dark. You have her eyes, see how your one eye is dark brown? It looks just like hers. And you have the same love for music as she did. She was the greatest singer the opera house had ever seen, and you inherited her voice."

Elissa was now beaming. "She would be proud of me?"

"Cherie, she would think you are the most amazing little lady in the world. I know if she could meet you, it would be the best day of her life."

Elissa let her father pick her up and carry her back into their house. He sat her on the couch and he began to play a song on the organ. She let herself fall asleep as the music surrounded her, her dreams filled with thoughts of her mother.


	4. Chapter 4

When he was a young boy, Erik had created a future for himself entirely in his mind. It was his land of forbidden fantasies, as he soon realized how unattainable such a life would be for him, but that never deterred him from using it as an escape from the cruel world around him.

He imagined coming home from a long day of work into a lovely house in the country. He imagined his wife, beautiful and elegant, holding their children on her lap as she read them stories. He imagined playing the violin as night time consumed the sky outside while his children dozed off by the fireplace, resting their heads on their mother's lap. He imagined carrying his kids off to their beds with his wife not too far behind. They would tuck them in with a kiss before retiring themselves to their own room.

As an adult, his world of make believe would sometimes resurface in his sleep, only different then before. He would be there in his house in the country, but his wife's features were no longer an anonymous pretty face, but instead it was Christine. He no longer fantasized about having many kids, instead there was only Elissa. They would dance and sing and enjoy life to the fullest together as a family. One morning, he found his dream promptly ripped away as Elissa jumped onto her father's sleeping form, allowing her bony knees to wedge themselves into Erik's ribs.

"Papa I want to go the the opera!" Elissa said.

Erik rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up on the couch where he had fallen asleep. "Cherie, why do you want to go the the opera?" he asked.

"You go all the time! I want to come with you!"

"Well, I'm afraid I go for business. I have a sort of reputation to keep up." He smugly said, sitting up a little bit straighter.

"Yes I know, the Opera Ghost," she sighed. "But can't I come with you just once? Please? For my birthday?"

Erik thought about the request. His daughter seemed to adore music, constantly fawning over whatever piece he was composing. She had even tried playing the organ herself and seemed to pick it up rather quickly, and it was true that her 6th birthday would be approaching soon. "Fine," he finally said, her eyes lighting up. "But we must establish some ground rules."

"Ok!" she beamed.

"First, you stay in the shadows of the box. Do not go to the edge and wave to the audience bellow. Next, you need to remain quiet. Unless you are cheering for the lead soprano I don't want to hear any disturbances. Finally, I expect you to conduct yourself in a civilized manner. Am I understood?"

She was grinning ear to ear. "Yes Papa!"

That night, Erik made his way to box 5 through his secret passageway, his daughter clinging to his back. They got up and settled down to prepare for the show, the shadows concealing the pair from any wandering eyes.

Erik had worn his infamous mask and cloak ensemble, while Elissa was wearing her finest, poofiest dress. Erik had fashioned the child's curly black hair into a sort of substitute mask. He let it all fall over to the right side, masking her baldness and concealing half her face.

She had fussed over her hair at first, claiming the few strands in front of her eyes "completely blinded her to everything" yet she seemed to forget how blind she was supposed to be as she noticed the building around her. The sweeping architecture and majestic chandelier took her breath away. "Is it true you helped build this, Papa?"

"Yes, I did," Erik said, once again feeling rather proud.

She looked over the auditorium as the audience began to slowly trickle in. "I've never seen so many people in my life!"

"Yes, it's quite a wonder, isn't it?" he said with a smile.

She looked at the stage again and asked, "Papa, what are we watching?"

"Hm, well tonight I believe they are performing Romeo et Juliet. It's a love story. Now quiet down, the show is about to begin."

Elissa was in pure aw at how wonderful the show was. She constantly pointed at set pieces or specific singers if they amazed her, trying to pull her father's attention to her subject of interest but still remaining quiet. After the show, Erik decided he'd give her a special treat since she was so well behaved. Once the crowd had cleared out and he was sure they were alone, he allowed her to walk around on the stage.

She ran around the stage trying her best to mimic the ballet she had seen. "This is amazing!" she called to the empty audience. "I want to be an opera singer. Do you think I could do it, Papa?"

"With enough practice and training I'm sure you could have one of the best voices in all of Paris," he said with a smile.

She spun clumsily across while laughing. "Could I be Juliet?"

"I'm sure you would make a marvelous Juliet," he said. He stood in the shadows watching his daughter have the time of her life on the same stage her mother had once graced. He imagined how Christine would have probably shared her love of performing with their child and for a moment he regretted ever letting her go, but the regret faded as Elissa threw herself at Erik's legs for a hug.

"This was the best night ever! Thank you Papa!"

"I am glad you enjoyed it, cherie. Now come along, we must return home."

The entire boat ride back to the house was filled with Elissa's constant chatter about how great the opera was. She recalled things in great detail despite only having seen the show once and Erik was glad she inherited her memory from him. As they docked the boat, Elissa danced into her room before throwing on her nightgown and collapsing on her bed. Erik entered to kiss her goodnight.

"Papa?" she asked.

"Yes, cherie?"

"Can we go see the opera again?"

Erik laughed. "You know what, you were very well behaved tonight so yes, I suppose we can go see the opera again."

"And can I be an opera ghost too?"

Erik gave an over exaggerated side eye, causing the little girl to erupt with laughter. "Now darling, why would you want to do that?" he asked in an over dramatic voice.

"Because opera ghosts get the best view!" She exclaimed.

"Ah yes, I suppose we do. Perhaps when you are older you can be my assistant opera ghost."

"Yay!" she squealed.

"Now, it's time for you to sleep. Good night, cherie."

"Good night, Papa."


	5. Chapter 5

As a young architect, Erik had created a maze through the walls of the Opera house that he had once used for his own benefit. He could go anywhere and see anything without leaving a trace, something any musical spector should have been able to do. But the secret halls had found a new purpose, as young Elissa found they made a wonderful place to explore and play.

The eight year old child had taken to exploring each and every crevice of her father's creation as long as she followed two rules. Stay out of sight and stay out of trouble. She had recently become rather fond of the walls in the ballet dressing room after she found a loose wall panel that could be shifted just enough to see the dancers. Elissa loved to watch the girls as they got ready for their shows and imagine how they felt. She liked to imagine she was part of their little group, she felt like they were her friends.

She had visited the girls three days in a row and eventually decided she needed to make her presence known, despite her better judgment. That day, she brought her violin with her, one that her father had given her for her birthday. She had been practicing very hard and intended to wow the girls with her new found talent.

Her fingers began their dance as the lullaby her father used to play for her rang out across the dressing room. The girls immediately stopped whatever they had been doing to listen to the song as it flooded their senses. One girl checked the hall to try and find the musician but found it empty.

The girls sat and listened, much to Elissa's delight, so she began to sing the lyrics as well. Now every girl was on the verge of tears as her voice serenaded them all. She let her voice soar to new heights as she imagined being on stage, the dancers as her entranced audience.

Their trance was broken by one of the girls suddenly saying, "wait! What if it's the Opera Ghost?!"

Panic spread quickly amongst the girls as chatter immediately started. Elissa ceased her singing and slammed her hand down to silence the violin so she could hear better. She picked up fragmented sentences amidst the chaos. "Could that really be the ghost?" "It sounded like a child." "It sounded like a girl!" "Do ghosts have ages or genders?" "Should someone fetch Giry?" "You know, Giry insists it's a man" "if the ghost is a man then what the hell did we just hear?"

The smarter part of Elissa's mind was telling her to retreat now and run home, but the other part was telling her to stay and watch. The girls were still panicked until one of them looked directly at the loose board Elissa was hiding behind. She had pushed it out just a tad too far and her yellow eye was reflecting the light.

"Does that look… off to any of you?" the dancer asked. She came over to the wall, followed by two other dancers, as the girls pushed and the panel came loose. Elissa only had enough time to hide her violin from view before freezing as the dancers discovered her.

The girls let out an ear piercing shriek as one of the screamed, "is that a dead body?!" All the others had forgotten about the voice that was entrancing them moments earlier and had now gathered around Elissa, whose right side was facing the horrified ballet girls. Her tiny form was crouched into the small cavity and sure enough she looked as if someone had done a poor job of disposing of a corpse.

"Oh mon Dieu, should we touch it?" a girl asked.

One brave girl cautiously reached out a finger and poked Elissa's arm, causing the mangled muscles to twitch. The girl let out a scream and cried, "it's so cold! Oh it's simply disgusting!" A few others mustered the courage to reach out and feel Elissa's dead flesh, all laughing in a horrified manner. "Look at its nose and teeth! That's so gross," one of them said.

Elissa was fighting back her tears as the girls continued with their morbid fascination. It had been a few minutes until one of the girls finally spoke up. "We should probably report this, you know?"

The troupe nodded and murmured in agreement. "I'll go fetch my mother," a dark haired girl said before prancing out of the room.

"Wait, Meg!" said another, "I'll come with you. I don't think I can look at it anymore."

After they left, the rest of the group stared at what they assumed was a lifeless child. Finally one of them said, "I'm going to take it out of the wall. It would be more humane." She wrapped her arms around Elissa's body and raised an eyebrow as her hands touched the girl's other shoulder. "It feels… warm?" she whispered to herself.

Elissa began to panic as she felt herself being lifted up. Her mind began racing as she tried to think of a way to stop the brave dancer from exposing her, when she suddenly remembered the voice trick her father had taught her. She threw her voice into her own neck and made a horrible cracking sound before violently tossing her head back. The ballet dancer holding her let out a scream and dropped Elissa to the ground, the young girl wincing slightly as she fell heavily on her left side.

"Cecile! Did you just snap its neck?" one of them asked.

Cecile, who Elissa now recognized from the stage as one of the lead dancers, said, "I didn't know it was so fragile!" She stooped down and examined the body she had unceremoniously dropped. Elissa lay helpless as she felt her body being turned over before hearing a collective gasp among the girl.

"Mon Dieu, is that normal?!" one of them asked as she touched Elissa's good cheek. Elissa heard a loud thump and felt the ground shake slightly. She opened her eyes just enough to see one of the dancers had fainted. While some had begun fanning their friend, others were staring at Elissa.

"It was actually kind of pretty," Cecile said as she brushed some hair off Elissa's good side.

"Sure, I guess," another dancer added. "Such a shame it never got to grow up". Elissa winced at the sound of being called "it".

She felt herself being picked up again and recognized it as Cecile's grasp. "What happened to you?" she asked the seemingly lifeless girl. Elissa, though incredibly terrified, felt comforted in Cecile's arms as she was lightly rocked back and forth. She let her head drop forward and rest against the woman's chest. Cecile's breathing hitched as the lifeless face made contact with her skin but she did not dash the young girl away. Instead, she kept rocking Elissa in her arms as if her kindness could somehow save the wretched child.

"Ew! Cecile, please put it down. I think I'm going to be sick watching you."

Cecile glared at the dancer and held Elissa closer but eventually obliged and lowered Elissa back on the ground, carefully rearranging the girl's raven curls so they looked a bit neater.

"Girls, I want all of you out of the room, right now!" Mme. Giry called from the hall. "And mon Dieu Sorelli, stop touching her hair, leave the poor thing alone."

The girls shuffled out, but Cecile remained by Elissa's side until Mme. Giry called again. Once the dancer was gone Elissa was about to run back to her hiding place in the wall when she heard footsteps near her ear. She tensed up and held her breath before opening her eyes just enough to see who it was.

To her surprise, it was her father who was looming over her. "Did you have fun?" he asked in Mme. Giry's voice, annoyance dripping from his disguised words.

Before she could respond he scooped her into his arms and carried her back through the wall, replacing the panel and grabbing her violin as he left.

"I'm sorry, Papa," she said, burying her face into his shoulder.

"I know you are, but you must be more careful Elissa! You are lucky I saw Little Meg and her friend running so frightened, who knows what Giry would have done had she found you."

Erik placed Elissa so she was standing on the ground facing him. She braced herself for a long lecture filled with screaming but was shocked when her father pulled her in for a hug. "Please Elissa, do not do that again. I can not lose you."

She hugged him back, tears running down into his shirt. The pair did not say anything, they simply stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace.


	6. Chapter 6

As Erik carried Elissa home from the dancer's dressing room, she did not speak. He prepared dinner, which the child responded to by pushing around the contents of her plate and taking a single bite of potato. He attempted to get her to rehearse, asking if she wanted to sing or play her violin, but she shook her head silently and instead sat on the couch, staring at the wall. He offered to read a story to her and asked if she wanted to practice a new language that day, but she once again declined silently. He eventually decided to go to bed. He offered to tuck her in and kiss her goodnight, but she shook her head and went to sleep on her own.

Elissa had been given the room that had once belonged to Christine, though she did not know this. As she lay in her bed, the memories of the day replaying over and over in her head and she felt the need to hide. She grabbed her blanket and curled up on the floor of her closet, feeling comforted by the tight walls and darkness around her. She brushed her fingers along the floor but stopped when, to her surprise, she felt a floorboard come loose. She pried it up and discovered a beautiful box placed inside, covered with dust and dirt.

Elissa listened outside and heard her father already asleep. She pulled the box up and wiped it clean, sitting on her bed as she inspected its contents. Inside the box were many, many papers, all covered in beautiful handwriting. Upon closer examination, she realized they were letters and not just any letters, they were letters from her mother, all written to her.

Her heart began racing. She was desperate to read her mother's thoughts, desperate to hear the messages she deemed worthy to write to her daughter. She began to read the letters, hoping they would give her a sense of comfort.

_April 14th, 1883_

_My Dearest Child,_

_Today I learned you exist. I had had my suspicions for a few months but today Monsieur Daroga confirmed it. I'm not sure how to feel. I always wanted to be a mother and I'm sure I will love you so much once I finally get to meet you, but I am also a little nervous. Your father is also nervous to meet you, but I'm sure he will become more excited once you arrive. He has already started building a bassinet for you. We both want nothing but the best for our child._

_The Daroga suggested I write letters to you to help calm myself. I feel a little foolish to be completely honest, but in some degree it does help. I will likely hide these letters in my closet so Erik does not find them. There are some things reserved solely between a mother and her child. I will write to you soon, my love._

_Your Mother,_

_Christine Daaé_

_June 8th, 1883_

_Dear Baby, _

_Today I felt you move for the first time! I was sitting by the lake when I felt you begin to shift! I was very excited by this and the more excited I got the more you began to move around. Later on I was singing with your father when I felt you move again. I hope you like music because there will surely be no escape from it in this family._

_I think you will have a sweet tooth. Ever since I have been pregnant I have craved cakes and other sweets. I am not a good baker, but your father is. I hope you gain that skill from him, it is always useful to know how to make sweets. Tonight you seem to be craving something with cherries and chocolates. I completely agree with you, let us see what your father can make for us._

_That is all for now, goodbye baby!_

_Love,_

_Your mother_

_June 30th, 1883_

_My Darling Baby,_

_Today I felt you kick! You have very strong legs, perhaps you will become a dancer! Your father was excited by the news but refused to feel you. He has been acting distant lately. I think he is scared you may have his appearance. The thought has crossed my mind as well but I think I will love you no matter what._

_I don't know if your father was ready for you. I do feel a tad guilty because it was my idea to have you so quickly, but I promise he's very excited to meet you, he just has a weird way of showing it._

_I also began wondering if you are a girl or a boy. Again, I will love you no matter what but I secretly hope you're a girl. Your father has not stated his preference yet but I think he wants a son. Most men want sons, so it's nothing you can blame him for. I'm sure he'd be pleased with a daughter as well though. It's nothing you need to concern yourself with, we will love you so much!_

_With Lots of Love,_

_Your mother_

_August 18th, 1883_

_My Sweet Baby,_

_You are growing so much! I can not believe I still must carry you another 3 months, I feel like you're ready to be born now! If the size of my stomach is any indicator, you are probably going to be a very big baby. I heard that is a good thing, it means you're healthy._

_I wonder what you will look like. Your father has very nice eyes, I hope you gain that from him. I once heard it's possible to get hidden traits from your grandparents. Erik told me his mother had very dark eyes. I think that would also be beautiful, but I'd be just as happy if you got my eyes. I mainly wonder about your hair. I hope you get your father's dark hair, it is very handsome on him._

_Oh, I finally got your father to confess if he wanted a girl or a boy. He said it didn't matter, but he liked to idea of having a little girl who looked like me. That was sweet of him to say. If you are a boy, I promise we love you anyways!_

_Your Loving Mother,_

_Christine Daaé_

_September 3rd, 1883_

_Dear Baby,_

_Today I asked your father if you will receive my name or his. You see, your father never told me his family name once we were married, so I remain a Daaé. He told me he had no last name and I told him to stop being ridiculous because everyone must have a family name. He finally admitted his father's family name was Sonat, but his mother never gave that name to him. I questioned the Daroga, who said Erik's mother never even filled out a birth certificate for him, so your father has no legal name! Apparently she never saw the need, how cruel! I wonder how he decided to be called Erik..._

_I asked your father if he wants you to be a Sonat but he said since it is not HIS name, it will not be passed on to you. I guess that means you're a Daaé! (Daaés are fantastic, trust me.)_

_That is all for now, I am tired and wish to sleep. I hope you do not kick too much tonight because you've started to make that a habit. Goodnight baby._

_Love,_

_Your mother_

_September 18th, 1883_

_Dearest Baby Daaé,_

_Your father refuses to discuss your possible names with me! In fact, he refuses to talk about you at all. I swear I can not comprehend that man. One minute he is a doting father-to-be, the next he acts like he's never heard about the concept of a child! I hope you gain my sense of reason (it's one of the perks of being a Daaé.)_

_Anyways, I don't know what I want to name you. I considered calling you Isabelle or Alfred after my parents but it feels a bit cliché. Erik's parents were Louise and Maurice, though I doubt he'd name you after his mother (perhaps Maurice? I don't mind that actually). I like the idea of naming a baby once you see it, to make sure the name suits them but I want a few ideas. I will try discussing it with your father later._

_I'm going now, Daroga brought me some cake and I want to go eat it._

_Your (slightly annoyed but ever loving) Mother,_

_Christine Daaé_

_P.S. This is an update written a few hours later. Your father apologised for being so distant and spent an hour crying at my feet. He said he just isn't sure if he'll make a good father. I tried my best to reassure him he'd be great, I think he feels a little better. We still haven't discussed names though. Also the cake the Daroga brought me was delicious, it was a lemon cake with raspberries!_

_October 14th, 1883_

_Dear Baby Daaé,_

_Today your father painted another portrait of me. He had done a few before we were married when we first met and he did one shortly after our wedding night but this portrait was special because you are in it, sort of. You can clearly see my stomach in the portrait and I think it is nice._

_I asked him if he would paint another one once you are born and he said he would see. I think he is getting more and more anxious about your arrival. I know he is nervous about your appearance but I keep having to reassure him that it won't matter what you look like. Anyways, I hope he paints a nice portrait of you one day, your father is a very talented artist!_

_Love,_

_Christine Daaé_

_November 15th, 1883_

_My Dearest Baby,_

_You are supposed to be born tomorrow and I could not be more excited. You are very heavy and I am ready to carry you in my arms rather than in my stomach. Erik has been acting strange again, I think it's finally dawning on him that he will be a father! I know I am ready to be a mother. I have spent the last few weeks knitting you the most beautiful, fluffy blanket for when you're born. It's very soft, I want only the best things for you._

_I can't wait to sing to you. I think you can hear me now because you kick a lot when I sing with your father. You always kick more when I sing rather than Erik, I hope that means you like my voice more! Maybe it's just because you can hear me better. Hmm. Either way, I cannot wait to see the face of the little one I've been writing to these past few months._

_With so much love,_

_Your mother, Christine Daaé_

_November 18th, 1883_

_My Dearest Daughter,_

_Today you were born. I am holding you in my arms as I write this, so my apologies if my writing is not as nice as it usually is. You had a very weak cry, but it was so beautiful. I think you will be a wonderful singer. You were pretty small, which was a bit shocking considering how heavy you were!_

_We have not named you yet, I think we will decide that tomorrow. It took you fourteen hours to arrive and we are all too tired to think of a good name. You also decided to be breached. I can already tell you would make a wonderful Prima Donna._

_I got my wish. You're a girl, you got your father's hair, and you have the most beautiful eyes. I'm staring into them right now as I write this. You somehow got both your father's eyes and your grandmother's eyes. They are so pretty, I hope you like them as much as I do. I could spend an eternity staring into them._

_You got a bit more from your father than just your hair and eyes. I still think you are beautiful, though I will admit I cried over your appearance at first. It was not about you though, I was crying because I knew there will be cruel and mean people in the world who will try to hurt you and I know I won't always be there to protect you. I think you are a very cute baby and I am so happy you're mine. I like holding you, you feel so right in my arms it's almost like two puzzle pieces._

_I think I upset Erik earlier, I tried to cover your face from him. I'm sorry about that, baby. I think he is a bit distraught about this, I know he wanted a daughter that looked like me, but I know he loves you just the way you are. You two will become the closest father and daughter anyone will ever see, I guarantee it. He understands you, and you will understand him._

_I think I will end this letter here. Erik promised me some privacy while I wrote but I do not wish to keep him outside any longer. I'll hide this before he comes in though. Again, there are some thoughts that are meant to be shared between only a mother and her child. The Daroga showed me how to position some pillows around you so you do not fall off, so I will sleep with you in my arms tonight, you are very small and I want to keep you warm. Also I like how the fluffy blanket I made for you feels. I may have to make one for myself!_

_I love you._

_Your mother,_

_Christine Daaé_

Elissa hadn't noticed she had started to cry. These were her mother's words, her thoughts that she wanted to share with a child she knew nothing about. All Elissa could think about was how many times Christine had written about her love for her unborn child.

She wanted to read more, but she knew the letters stopped there for a reason. Erik had told her that Christine passed away the night after she was born. Elissa felt guilty for that, but Erik had always assured her it was not her fault. Right now though, Elissa was just thankful she wrote that one final letter.

She felt as if her mother's spirit was there with her and had guided her to the letters in order to cheer her up. She whispered a quiet "thank you" before letting herself fall asleep. She knew that she was not nearly as beautiful as her mother had been, but at least she was loved.


	7. Chapter 7

Elissa had just turned 18 and had become a kind, well mannered young lady, much to the surprise of her father. Erik had feared every single day that she would turn out like him but it seemed Christine's grace was able to shine through, allowing their daughter to flourish.

Ever since that night just before her 6th birthday, Elissa had adored attending the Opera every Friday. Erik never admitted it, but he loved spending that time with his child, not matter how old either of them grew. He loved seeing her eyes light up every time the theatre darkned, her wonder just as great as when she was a child.

After her childhood incident with the ballet girls, she begged her father to create a mask for her. He initially refused, reasoning that if she never went outside she'd never need a mask, but after a year he gave in and created a prosthetic piece to cover her her face. It was attached to a pair of fake glasses and gave the illusion of a perfectly normal face. He had had some difficulty working around her lips, but eventually devised a pattern that looked fairly natural. She had perfected her disguise, always being sure to wear gloves and a corset to even out her waist, and had learned how to use makeup to even out her skin tone and draw on her missing eyebrow. She looked like any normal young lady as long as one did not look too close.

With her new ability to walk around without fear of someone seeing her face, she had sure enough become her father's "assistant opera ghost". She used this title mostly for petty pranks and gathering gossip, but what she really loved was her ability to walk outside. Every Sunday, Erik would take her out on a walk to see the city and she loved it. People would smile at the sight of a young lady still willing to be seen in public with her father.

One Friday night, as the father and daughter took their seats, Erik heard Elissa's breathing hitch, if only for a moment. "Is your corset too tight?" he asked.

"No Papa, nothing is wrong," she said with a smile.

The whole show, Erik couldn't help but notice how distracted Elissa seemed to be. He constantly saw her looking out at the audience rather than the stage and she seemed to be in a world of her own. Eventually it was time for them to leave. As the audience cleared out, Elissa took one last look at the sea of people before slipping into the shadows with her father.

The boat ride back was awkwardly quiet. Eventually, Elissa spoke up. "Papa, did you notice that man sitting in the box across from us?"

Erik turned back to face his daughter. "There were many men present, care to enlighten me?"

"Well he had dark wavy hair and beautiful skin, and a little beard…" Elissa drifted as she spoke but soon caught herself and sat up straight.

"Oh dear, are you in love, Elissa?" Erik asked.

"Of course not!" she protested. "More like enamoured. I would need to speak to him more before I would even think of calling this love."

"Well at least you can tell the difference, that is a useful skill," Erik mumbled. He docked the boat as Elissa retreated into her room. He took a seat and began to think; could Elissa actually be in love? Surely it was too soon for her to be considering this, but then again, many girls her age were relationships already. Of course, none of those girls were in Elissa's situation.

From his daughter's room, Erik heard the first few notes of a violin begin to play. He listened to the music and quickly realized it was a love song. Maybe Elissa was thinking about this more seriously than he thought.

The next night, Erik sent Elissa up to meet with the Daroga for his weekly delivery of food and any other things the two may need. Elissa loved going up to meet her uncle, it was one of the few times she got to feel like an adult.

"Good evening, Elissa. How are you today?" the Daroga asked, holding out a basket to the teenager.

"I'm fine thank you, and yourself?" she asked as she accepted the basket.

"I'm doing well," he said with a smile.

Elissa hesitated for a moment before asking a question. "Uncle Daroga, if I were to have seen a boy sitting in one of the boxes and wanted to know who he was, how would I go about finding that information?"

The Daroga raised an eyebrow. "Well, if such a scenario were to happen, it would be safe to assume he his a patron of the Opera house since he had his own box, or perhaps the son of a patron if he was younger."

Elissa nodded, "and is there a way to meet this patron? Or his son?"

"Well, you could always go talk to him after the show, but given the fact that you are related to your father I assume you want to make things unnecessarily complicated," he said.

Elissa blushed and diverted her eyes. The Daroga laughed and continued, "if you know at least a little bit about him like what he looks like or the sound of his voice, you could probably find him at the masquerade ball being held this year. People will still usually be recognizable through their masks."

Her head perked up. "A masquerade ball? Are you serious? That sounds perfect!"

"Of course. What better way to celebrate the new year? I thought you of all people would have known about that."

"Papa never allowed me to go. I was too young."

"Well you are a young woman now. Ask him permission to attend, I will accompany you myself and will help you find this young man."

"Really? Oh you're the best! Thank you uncle!" she exclaimed as she threw her arms around him.

"Yes, yes of course. Anything for you Elissa. Now go convince your father. The party is in two weeks."

Elissa rushed back to the house on the lake, a huge grin plastered on her face, but was met with a less than stellar response.

"Absolutely not," Erik said.

"But Papa, why not?" she begged.

"It is not a good idea, Elissa! I've attended such balls before and they only ever ended with heartbreak."

"Yes but that is because you are you! Please Papa, let me at least have a fighting chance for love!"

He looked into his daughter's eyes. At that moment he saw far too much of himself, too much of his desperation. But he also saw the innocence he had only ever seen in Christine's eyes the first time he saw her from beyond his mirror.

He sighed as he gave in and said, "if you truly want to go, I will not stop you. But you must be careful to not let anyone know who you are, alright?"

"Oh thank you Papa! And don't worry, uncle Daroga has agreed to accompany me. If he introduces me as his niece, it will all work out fine. I promise"

She gave her father a hug and ran off to her room. Erik took a moment before shaking his head and going to play a song on his organ to calm himself. On one hand, he never wanted to hold his daughter back. Her childhood had been a constant struggle of building her self esteem up only for it to be knocked back down. He tried his best to give her a good life, and he knew that relationships would eventually play a part in that, but it all seemed to be happening too fast. He didn't want his daughter to get hurt if this man didn't reciprocate those feelings. Meanwhile, Elissa had never felt more excited for anything in her life, knowing that this could be the start of everything changing.


	8. Chapter 8

Guests flooded into the hall of the Opera House, all adorned in outrageously loud costumes. Among these guests were the Daroga, with a very nervous Elissa holding his arm as if her life depended on it.

"Thank you again for taking me here," she whispered.

"Yes of course, now please try to look past the masks and recognize him."

Elissa's eyes scanned the crowd. She was getting a little anxious being surrounded by so many people without her father's support, but she kept a solid grip on the Daroga's arm. Finally her eyes settled on a man, immediately recognizing his moustache. He was accompanied by the slightly younger man with dirty blond hair, who had also been in the box a few weeks ago.

"That's him," she whispered, pointing in the general direction of the two men. "What is his name?" she asked.

The Daroga's eyes widened. "Are you sure you want that one?" he asked.

"Dear Uncle, you speak of him as if he is some prize to be won at a fair!" she laughed. She failed to notice the colour drain from her chaperone's face.

"Yes, you're right. Um… well," he stuttered. "That is… his name is Cléante. He is the son of one of the Opera's best patrons. Cléante's father rarely ever comes himself but I really don't know if you're right for him."

"Cléante," Elissa repeated, allowing the name to flow from her lips and completely ignoring her uncle's warning. "What about that other boy who follows him?"

The Daroga glanced to see who she was referring to. "Oh, that is Valère. He is Cléante's cousin and was taken in by Cléante's father when he was just a baby."

Elissa straightened her shoulders and looked at the two men. "Thank you uncle! Wish me luck!" She let her hand release her grip from his arm. She carefully made her way towards her handsome stranger, eager to introduce herself.

On the other side of the room, Valère tugged at the collar of his shirt. "I don't know if this will work," he said to his cousin. "I feel like this was a stupid idea."

"Ah come on!" Cléante exclaimed. "This is just the place for you to find a girl, it's perfect for you since no one has to know your name! They just have to deal with your awkwardly patchy beard." Cléante tried to tickle his cousin, poking at his chin. Valère shoved him away before joining in the small wrestling match, but the two boys ceased their laughing when a girl in a beautiful red and gold dress approached them.

"Excuse me, Cléante?" The girl said. "My name is Elissa and I was wondering if I could have this dance?"

The boy with the dirty blond hair raised an eyebrow, nudged his cousin and laughed. "Sorry good sir, but it looks like you'll have to fend for yourself."

He whisked Elissa onto the dance floor and the two danced in silence. Elissa was about to speak but Cléante beat her to it. "So, Elissa," he said, "you seem really familiar but I can't say I recognize your voice. Do I know you?"

"No, sir you do not." She refused to give any more information and after a few seconds of dancing in more silence she pulled away. "I'm sorry Cléante, there appears to be a misunderstanding. I thought your cousin was named Cléante. I had wanted to dance with him. I'm sorry." Her voice had gone from stern and cold to scared and awkward rather quickly but Cléante remained unphased.

"You want to dance with my cousin? He'll be thrilled to hear that! Hey Valère!" he shouted back to his cousin. Valère flinched at the sound of his name and looked around to see his cousin dragging Elissa by the arm towards him. "Good sir, there was a misunderstanding. The beautiful Elissa wanted to dance with you!" Cléante said with a laugh. He put their hands together before stepping back to admire his handiwork. "Well, you two have fun," he said before leaving without another word.

Valère and Elissa stood there and stared at each other, Valère still holding her gloved hand. Finally, she decided to break the silence. "So Valère, would you like to dance?"

"I… yes, I would love to," he said as he lead her to the dance floor.

"I must apologize for the mix up earlier," she said. "My uncle told me your name was Cléante and that your cousin was named Valère. I suppose it was my fault for not clarifying before I came and asked him to dance."

"No, you don't need to apologize! The truth is, that was a pretty common occurrence. Cléante could probably get any girl he wanted. Hell, he could probably get any man he wanted too. I'm used to girls ignoring me," he chuckled, looking away from her eyes.

"Why would girls ignore you? You're gorgeous!" Elissa blurted out. She gasped and covered her mouth the second she heard the words escape her lips.

The two began to crack up as she managed to get an "I'm sorry" out before completely succumbing to laughter. "Oh my goodness I don't know why I said that!" she finally said once they had both calmed down.

"My cousin has always been more of the ladies man," he said as they noticed Cléante talking to another girl over by the door. "I've never been able to master his art of… well I wouldn't call it seduction," he laughed.

"Yes, I've never mastered that either," Elissa said. "I mean, my first time dancing and I ask the wrong boy to dance, then call a man I just met gorgeous! I mean you are but still, it's not ladylike to say it just like that!"

"This is your first time dancing?"

"Yes," she giggled. "Monsieur Valère, you are not the only one in Paris to whom love is a foreign language."

The two danced in silence until Valère looked over her shoulder and groaned. "What's wrong?" Elissa asked.

"My uncle and aunt are here. We're probably going home soon." They both looked at the clock to see it had been 3 hours of them dancing. Had the time really flown so fast?

"I want to see you again," Valère said suddenly, like if he didn't say it then and there the words would have never come out. "Where can we meet?"

She was taken aback, but was not disappointed. "Meet me… uh… here! Yes, meet me here at the entrance of the Opera tomorrow at 6:00 in the evening, the entrance near the grand staircase."

"Tomorrow it is then," he said, kissing her gloved hand.

As the two of them continued their dance, a slightly older couple came up to them. "Alright Valère, we're going home," said the man.

Valère sighed. "Yes sir. Elissa, this is my aunt and uncle. Aunt and uncle, this is Elissa."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Elissa said with a curtsy.

"Likewise," said Valère's uncle with a kind smile behind his mask.

"Oh my," Valère's aunt said with a laugh, "I never thought this boy would find anyone, let alone a girl such as yourself. Forgive my suddenness but you are rather beautiful."

Elissa was blushing so hard under her mask and felt her arms get suddenly stiff from embarrassment. "Oh, thank you Madame, but I assure you your nephew is the real prize here."

His aunt rolled her eyes playfully and batted her hand. "Oh my dear, you're such a charmer. I certainly hope of seeing more of you around." She gave a little wink before linking arms with her husband. "Come now darling, let's go find Cléante."

He laughed and pulled his wife closer. "He's off charming some poor girl again, no doubt."

Valère waved goodbye as he followed his aunt and uncle. Elissa waved back before running off to find her own uncle to tell him about her night.

Back at her house, after she was dropped off, Elissa recalled every detail of the night to her father, who listened patiently.

"Does this man make you happy?" he asked. Elissa nodded and Erik smiled. "As you know cherie, I am not unfamiliar with love and all it entails, but please be careful."

"Papa, I will. I promise."

Erik pulled her in for a hug and looked down at his daughter. It was the happiest he had seen her in a long time.

"Oh, and Papa?" she added. "Tomorrow I agreed to meet him upstairs so we could continue to talk. Is that alright?"

"A date?" Erik asked, slightly shocked.

"I'd like to think of it as a date," she said hesitantly.

"That sound good… yes that's very nice. But you must keep all this a secret," he said as he gestured around himself to the house, "come up with a believable lie. Am I understood?"

"Yes, of course… We might also go outside the opera house for dinner. Is that ok?"

Erik's face grew more stern, but softened when he saw the fear in Elissa's eyes at the prospect of him saying no. "I have taken you out many time, I trust you'll be able to manage."

"Thank you Papa!" she beamed as she wrapped her father in a hug

Erik sighed. "Yes, yes. But I want you back here before midnight."

She nodded, gave him one last hug, then ran to her room so she could get some sleep. Erik smiled to himself. While he certainly was uneasy about a suitor trying to court his little girl he had to admit a dinner date was a rather normal thing to do, and he figured Elissa needed all the semblances of normalcy she could get.


	9. Chapter 9

Valère stood inside the Opera at the entrance and awkwardly fidgeted with his jacket. He wanted to look like a dashing gentleman, but he knew he probably looked more like a scared child. A thousand thoughts flooded his mind. What if she had only agreed to go out to be nice, what if she had forgotten, what if he couldn't recognize her without a mask and made a bigger fool out of himself. He watched the few people present walking around when one girl caught his eye and all his fears melted away. He recognized her beautiful black curls and eagerly waved her over. Her face lit up and she bounded towards him.

"Valère!" she exclaimed.

"Hi Elissa! You look beautiful today."

"Oh… thank you… shall we head out?"

They settled on a nice bakery and picked up some food they could walk around with. The baker had cooed over how sweet "young love" was, which had caused both of them to blush and laugh. The couple decided to sit by the river as they enjoyed their dinner, the water reflecting the moon above ever so perfectly. The young couple snuck the occasional glance at each other in hopes of starting a conversation, yet neither took the initiative. Finally, they managed to catch each other's eyes and collectively laughed at their own shyness.

"So Elissa, tell me about yourself. What kind of things interest you?" he finally asked.

"I enjoy the arts," she said, "though I can not draw to save my life. I do have a love for theatre of any kind, but mostly I love music, it is my greatest passion."

"Ah, what do you play?"

"I play the violin and the organ… and I sing."

"I'd love to hear you sometime"

She quickly changed the subject and said, "what about you? What interests you?"

"Ah, I suppose music as well. But not so much playing, I prefer to listen. You see, my aunt has a really nice voice and I grew up with her singing songs for us."

Elissa remembered the kind woman from the night before. "Could you tell me more about your family? They all seem so nice and I'd love to know more about them."

"Oh… ok. Well, as you know I live with my uncle and aunt and of course my cousin Cléante. I used to have a great aunt who lived with us but she passed away maybe ten years ago. Actually, I was named after her."

"What happened to you parents?" Elissa asked. Valère's face dropped and Elissa immediately tried to remedy the situation. "I'm sorry if that was rude. You don't have to tell me. It was my mistake to ask."

"No! No, don't be silly. I get that a lot. My dad died before I was born and my visits me once a month which is really nice. She couldn't raise me on her own, so she gave me to my uncle."

"That was sweet of your uncle to take you in, he must be a very kind man."

"Yes… he is. I know he got a lot of backlash from his friends because of how unconventional it was." He was blushing really hard. "It's a pretty big disgrace to my family name but my uncle never made me feel bad about it. Still, I know that's probably the reason all the girls are in love with my cousin," he said before turning his head away. "I don't want to mislead you. I would rather you know this now rather than later."

Elissa moved closer to him and rested her head against his shoulder. "To tell you the truth, I didn't know that was such a big deal. I liked you for you, not your family."

He looked down and smiled. "That's very kind of you Elissa. Now why not tell me a bit about your own family? I'd hate to not know anything about them," he said.

Elissa froze, her mind trying to filter her life for details that were safe to share. "Well," she started, "I live with just my father. My mother died shortly after I was born." She paused and considered revealing her mother's name, but decided against it. She continued and said, "I have an uncle who comes by once a week. He's not actually related to me, he's just a good friend of my father. He's the one who took me to the masked ball yesterday. And… I believe that's it."

"Well that sounds lovely, I'd love to meet your father one day," he said with an innocent smile.

"You truly wouldn't," Elissa laughed under her breath.

"I'm sorry, pardon?"

"Oh, I said… I'd love to meet your family… again," she said with a nervous laugh. 'Why would you say that!' she thought to herself.

"I'm sure my aunt would enjoy that. She really took a liking to you,"

Elissa smiled. "That's good to know!" she looked up at the stars and saw the moon was getting closer to the top of the sky, signifying it was almost her time to leave. "Oh dear, I must go soon. I promised my father I would be home before midnight."

"Allow me to walk you home," Valère said, immediately offering his arm to her.

"No, no that's ok," she said.

"Please, I insist."

"No, don't trouble yourself Valère. In fact, I insist I walk you back to YOUR home."

Valère raised an eyebrow and laughed. "Ok, if you are that adamant about me not walking you home, then we can walk to my house."

It wasn't a far walk and Elissa was relieved it was rather close to the Opera House. At the door, she turned to Valère. "I had a nice night. In fact, it was one of the best nights of my life."

"Likewise," he said.

He then took her hand and planted a kiss ever so gently on the glove that covered it.

"Can I see you tomorrow?" he asked.

"Y-yes," she stuttered.

"Wonderful. Shall I meet you in the same spot, perhaps around noon?"

"That sounds great," she said. She released his hand and walked away. He stood on his front step with a goofy smile on his face, watching his beloved fade from view. His thoughts were interrupted when Cléante slammed the door open.

"HEY! LOOK IT'S THE LADIES MAN!" he screamed. He was promptly shut up by Valère, who tackled him back inside the house.


End file.
